Ron?” Meena watched as Audrey chose a track and pressed Play. “Now that’s romantic. All those years widowed, missing your dad, and now she’s in love again. It’s like a movie.”
“Widowed” sounded so much better than “divorced three times.”
Losing a husband in tragic circumstances attracted sympathy and understanding. Being divorced three times attracted suspicion and incredulity.
Audrey figured that with the way her life was, she was allowed a little poetic license. And since she and her mother had moved to this part of London only two years before, no one was likely to find out the truth.
“I love this song. Revision can wait.” She slid off her chair. “Let’s dance. Come on, meaner-Meena, show me what you’re made of.”
She turned up the volume and danced around the kitchen. She swayed and bumped to the music, her hair flying around her face. Meena joined her, and soon they were whooping and laughing.
For ten glorious minutes Audrey was a teenager without a care in the world. It didn’t matter that she was going to fail her exams and that the rest of her life would be ruined. It didn’t matter that her mum preferred to drink than spend time with her daughter. All that mattered was the pump and flow of the music.
If only the rest of her life could be like this.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Monica pulled up outside the hospital. “You’re shivering.”
Was she? Grace felt removed from everything, even the reactions of her own body. It was hard to believe that three days had passed since that night in the restaurant. “I need to do this on my own, but thanks. You’re a great friend.” She stared down at her feet and realized she was wearing odd shoes. One navy. One black. Visible evidence that she was falling apart. “Losing it” as Sophie would say.
“I still can’t believe it. I mean, David. You two are the perfect couple. And he’s such a family man. He takes Sophie swimming every Saturday and does backyard barbecues.”
“This isn’t helping, Monica.” Should she go home and change her shoes? They offended her sense of order.
“I’m just so angry. I could strangle David with my bare hands.” Monica thumped the steering wheel with her fist. “How could he do this to you?”
How? Why? When? Her brain was stuck in a loop.
What had she done? What hadn’t she done?
She’d thought she was the love of David’s life. The one.
Finding out that she wasn’t overturned her entire memory bank. What was real and what wasn’t?
“Apparently, he’s bored with his life.” Her mouth felt dry. “And since I was a large part of his life, I guess that means—”
“Do not tell me you’re boring,” Monica spoke through her teeth, “because we both know that’s not the case.”
“He said I organize every part of our lives and it’s true. I like predictability and order. I’ve always seen that as a good thing.”
“It is a good thing! Who wants a life full of chaos? Don’t do this to yourself, Grace. Don’t make it about you. The truth is you’re so competent, you’ve bruised his ego.”
“I don’t think so. David is very secure and sure of himself. I think I’ve made him feel—redundant. But it’s not a manhood thing. He isn’t like that.”
“Don’t you believe it. He’s having a full-blown midlife crisis. His little girl is leaving home, and suddenly he feels old. He’s faced his own mortality—literally, in the last few days—it’s classic.”
Grace stared out of the window, remembering David’s face that night at dinner. “He hasn’t bought a sports car or dyed his hair. He hasn’t given up his job. The only thing he seems to have changed is the woman in his life.”
Images played through her head, as if she’d accidentally clicked on a porn site on the internet. She wanted to cover her eyes. Reboot her brain. Cold, she tugged her coat around her.
Monica turned the heat up. “You have no idea who it is?”
“No.” Grace looked at her friend. “How could I not have known this was going on?”
“Because David is the last man on the planet you’d suspect of having an affair, so you weren’t looking. You need to ask him right out who it is.”
“The hospital staff say he mustn’t have any stress.” And she knew, deep down, she was postponing the moment when she’d have to hear the details. A name would make it real.
Monica snorted. “He mustn’t have stress? How about you? He’s a man who chose to tell his wife he wanted a divorce during a dinner to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Any other woman probably wouldn’t have resuscitated him when he collapsed.”
“It crossed my mind not to.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have admitted that. “What does that say about me?”
Monica reached out and took her hand. “It says you’re human, and thank goodness for that.”
“I stood there and couldn’t move—I don’t know how long it was—” Her heart had been beating frantically while his had been failing. “I thought I couldn’t do it.”
“But you did,” Monica said gently.
“What if I walk into his room and she’s there?”
Monica swallowed. “Surely David wouldn’t be that tactless?”
“He’s in love with another woman. I think tact has gone out of the window.” She twisted the edge of her coat with her fingers. “At dinner he kept rubbing his jaw. I thought he needed to see a dentist, but it turns out that can be a sign of a heart attack. I missed it.”
“Please tell me you’re not blaming yourself for that!”
“David was so stressed about hurting me, it brought on a heart attack. Even breaking up with me, he was inherently decent.”
“Grace, please. He was a heartless rat bast—” Monica broke off and lifted her hands in apology. “Sorry, but I can’t bear to hear you make excuses for him. How is Sophie taking it?”
Acid gnawed at her gut. Maybe she should see a doctor. “I haven’t told her yet.”
“What? Grace, she—”
“She needs to know. I’m aware. But telling her that her father had a heart attack and was in the hospital seemed like enough at the time. She’s upset and worried sick. I couldn’t bring myself to make it worse. She idolizes him. They’ve always been close.”
“You have to tell her, Grace.”
“I
